The Dying of the Light: Epilogue
by LaurenLannister
Summary: The Skulduggery Pleasant series has ended, but will never die with the fans to carry it on. The end of the final book left us with some questions as to who lived or died. After seeing the epilogue challenge on tumblr, I wrote this to give myself, and hopefully others, some closure on that.
1. Saracen

**Saracen & Dexter**

When Saracen woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he was hooked up to a giant machine. The second was that he had a visitor.

Dexter Vex gave him a tired smile. "Oh good. You're awake."

He tried to sit up, but Dexter was there, pushing him back. "Woah. Easy there, tiger. You've got a lot of internal bleeding from when Darquesse threw that wall on you."

Saracen groaned and lay back. Now that Dexter mentioned it, he was feeling awfully sore. "Where is she?"

"She's gone," Dexter said, running his hand through his hair. "She tore up my insides pretty good, but that's all patched up now." He coughed, and Saracen raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked instead, looking around him. The Medical wing was busy; teeming with injured sorcerers and doctors. He couldn't see anyone he knew.

"Donegan and Gracious are somewhere round here, being treated for a lot of broken bones and some fractured skulls," he said, looking somewhere behind Saracen. "Tanith is getting patched up from her fight with the Black Cleaver." His mouth twisted slightly as he said, "Maybe you should say hello."

"What?" he looked at Dexter. "What do you mean?"

Now he refused to look at him, looking down at his bed sheets. "Well, we've just almost been killed. Maybe you would want to… rekindle the old flame."

Saracen stared at him incredulously. "You must have hit your head during the fighting. Tanith's just found out that Ghastly is dead. Would I really come onto her after a shock like that?"

"You've done it before," Dexter muttered sulkily, glancing away.

Saracen laughed, and then winced when his chest groaned in protest. "If I didn't know you better, Vex, I'd say that you were jealous."

He blushed. "Not jealous," was all Saracen caught.

"You idiot," he said gently, holding out his hand for Dexter to take. When the other man just stared at it, he rolled his eyes. "Are you going to take it or wait for it to fall off?"

He blushed again and took the hand offered. "I-I'm sorry. It's just – coming to close to losing you –" he swallowed hard.

Saracen blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, and gave the hand he was holding a squeeze. "I know. And now it's all over-"

"I want to be with you," Dexter interrupted. He blushed furiously but maintained his eye contact with Saracen. "I'm sorry, that sounded stupid. But it was a now or never thing, you know?"

He couldn't speak for a moment. Several different emotions pulsed through him: astonishment, hope, joy, eagerness. A smile broke across his face as the realisation of what Dexter Vex, his long-time secret crush, had just told him.

"When I've been patched up," he said softly. "I'll be taking you to dinner."

Dexter stopped breathing for a moment. "Really?"

Saracen nodded. "Somewhere not too fancy. Maybe for a-"

The end of his sentence was cut off by rough lips being pressed to his. A hand cupped his cheek. He tasted like ashes and smelled like smoke. It was beautiful.

He pulled away and looked down at him. "Dinner sounds nice," he murmured, a smile playing around his lips.

Saracen was speechless. That didn't happen very often.

Dexter stood up and took his hand again. "I'll have to find China and fill her in on my side of the story. Which, admittedly, isn't much, because I was possessed by a Remnant for a few days. But still, protocol and all that jazz."

He looked up at him and smiled. "Go get 'em, tiger."

He chuckled and leant in for another chaste kiss. "I'll be back soon."

He began to walk away, but a thought seemed to strike him and he turned back to Saracen.

"Will you tell me what you're power is now?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

He perked up. "Really?"

"I know things."

Dexter rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. "I hate you!" he called as he walked away.

Saracen just grinned. For some strange reason, the phrase _I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave_ drifted through his mind as he watched Dexter's hips sway as he weaved his way through the people on the ward. He blushed.


	2. Tanith

**Tanith**

Tanith winced as a doctor applied a stinging liquid to her cuts. The fight with the Black Cleaver had left her with no spectacular injuries, but a collection of bruises and cuts that could rival Saracen Rue's. She wasn't feeling good.

The doctor finished bandaging her arm and stepped back. "Don't take them off for a few days," she told Tanith. "Just to be sure."

She nodded mutely and the doctor moved off. Sighing, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. Ghastly's face appeared in her mind's eye, and she had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling.

He was dead. He was dead and Erskine Ravel was the one who killed him. Of course, now Ravel was dead, with Skulduggery sacrificing him to the Accelerator, but that did nothing to dull the pain. He was dead, and she hadn't even known it for months afterward.

She wondered where they would be if that Remnant hadn't have taken up residence inside her. Engaged? Still dating? They were sorcerers, they lived a long time, and maybe taking it slow would have been the way to go –

A tear escaped from her shut eyes. She missed him. She missed him so badly it was almost unbearable. Who else had died while she was possessed she thought grimly.

She sat up and looked around. Tanith wasn't about to let grief swallow her. She would grieve, how could she not, but she would be productive about it, at least.

She saw Dexter lean in and kiss Saracen at the end of the room, and allowed herself a small smile. Even in the carnage and destruction and pain, people could still find love. That was a heartening thought, even if it was slightly cheesy.

China Sorrows approached her, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. Even after all that had happened, she still dressed impeccably. Her dress was plain yet tasteful, and her heels were sensible. They matched, of course.

"How are you, Miss Low?" she asked, taking in the bandages covering her arms. China still looked pale from her assault on the Black Cleaver, but she wasn't letting it get her down. How typical.

Tanith shrugged. "Fine now, I guess. Still shaken up about-" She choked on his name.

"Ghastly," China finished softly. "That is to be expected. You have been out of commission for the best part of three years, after all."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Every single time she thought his name, her gut twisted painfully. It made her nauseous, and it made her want to cry. She felt herself slump slightly, and forced herself to straighten her back. She would cry later, she promised herself.

"You proved yourself brave beyond measure," she was saying. "And now that we have a vacancy for the position of my bodyguard, I am sorely tempted to offer you the position. Would you care to accept?"

Tanith looked at her for a moment and thought about the offer. She hadn't really got anything else to do, and this could be a challenge. Still – her thoughts flickered to Val and Skulduggery. They could still be a team. Beating the bad guys, averting disasters, just like the old days. But – but it wouldn't feel the same without _him_.

"Will it be boring?" she asked.

China gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. "Possibly. But you would still be able to go on adventures and suchlike when the world isn't in danger. You will not be tethered to my side."

She found herself smiling slightly. "Yeah, go on then. Why not."

China gave her a heart breaking smile. "Well, that is good news. Oh, and before I forget –" She placed a parcel that Tanith hadn't even realised she was holding on the bed. "Elder Bespoke had these ready for you before his death," she said gently. Through the pain of remembering him, she was surprised that China could even sound gentle.

China had gone when Tanith had looked up from the parcel. She glanced around, then picked it up and undid the string that held it together.

Clothes. Ghastly had made her clothes before he had died. Tears blurred her sight, but she forced them down to look at them. Brown leather. Of course it was. A long coat. New boots. And on top of all that, a note.

Her heart beat a frantic rhythm as she picked it up. Her hands were shaking.

_Tanith, _he had written.

_These were made for you just days before the Remnant got inside of you. I had planned to give them to you after that whole drama was over. _

_But I didn't. _

_Instead, you were possessed, and I was alone. So I saved them for you, and when I became an Elder, left them with instruction to be given to you when you were returned to yourself again. If that should ever happen._

_I'm sorry we never got to have that steak. I think we missed out on a lot together. But I am glad that we knew each other, at least. _

_I hope that you're reading this as yourself. I miss you._

_Ghastly._

Tanith bowed her head, and allowed the tears to fall.


	3. Gracious

**(I'm thinking of doing a Scapegrace and Thrasher story arc soon. Maybe...?)**

**The Monster Hunters**

Right now, being a Monster Hunter was not good news.

Okay, so they weren't dead, and nothing was broken or fractured anymore, but Gracious had a killer headache. Plus there was nothing to do, so he had taken to complaining to Donegan, who just told him to shut up and made him feel bad.

Because there was nothing to do, he decided to heave himself out of bed and go for a walk.

As he wandered, his thoughts turned to his girlfriend. Well, not really his girlfriend, because he didn't have one, but how much he wanted one. And that he should probably stop thinking about them like puppies or something.

Gracious was short, and he was nerdy. With cool hair and muscles as an added plus. There must be at least one girl out there who found that attractive.

On cue, he walked into girl. Or a girl walked into him. Whichever way, it hurt his newly mended bones and made his headache slightly worse.

"Ow," he muttered, reaching up to hold his head. He glanced at the girl, who was glaring at him.

She was smaller than him, and that was saying something. She was small and petite; her figure almost childlike. Her red hair was wavy and thick, and fell almost to her waist. She glared at him with orange eyes. His mouth fell open.

"Watch it," she snapped, stepping back. She noticed his open mouth and her lips twitched. "Take a picture, kiddo, it'll last longer."

"I – uh, I'm Gracious," he blurted out. Oh, smooth, he chastised himself inwardly. Real smooth. Meet a gorgeous girl and make a fool out of yourself, as usual.

The girl smiled now, showing her perfect teeth. "I'm sure you are. Most people who meet me usually are."

"No, that's my name," he explained. "Gracious O'Callahan. I'm a Monster Hunter."

She laughed. "Obviously. I'm just messing with you. My friend has a crush on your partner."

"Oh…" he said, still staring at her. She looked about twenty five. "Uh… do you want me to introduce them?"

She shrugged. "Nah. Then I couldn't laugh at her as much."

Gracious just hummed. She was captivating.

The girl stuck out her hand. "I'm Serenity. Serenity Williams."

"Oh! The Sensitive!" Gracious reached out to take her hand.

She laughed again. She really did had a pretty laugh. "The one and only."

Their hands touched, and she hissed and flinched away like she had been burned. He stared in horror. Was he really that bad?

She looked up at him again. Her pale skin had turned pink under her blush, and her eyes had changed colour to a deep purple. He had heard she did that. It was a by-product of her power: emotional intuitiveness. She could sense and manipulate emotions.

"Oh my god," she breathed, reaching out for him again. This time when they touched, she didn't flinch away. "It's you."

Gracious puffed up proudly. "Well, I am quite famous in-"

"No," Serenity interrupted, still gazing into his face. She had lost the blush, but her eyes were still violet. "You're my counterweight."

"You're what?"

A smiled graced her pretty face, and he felt a jolt in his stomach. Please let this mean something good.

"Counterweight. Deana's idea, really. She thought soul mate was too cheesy. When she met Cas, I felt the power of their emotions. They were made for each other, though they didn't know it at the time. Neither did I, really. But when my two other friends found love, the same powerful emotions were there each time. And when I touched you-" she took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "It was almost overwhelming. Guess it just needed touch for it to affirm itself."

He felt light headed. Soul mate to the most beautiful girl he had ever met? Was he hallucinating? He was probably hallucinating. Donegan would have put something in his drink, thinking he was funny.

"Am I hallucinating?" he asked. He was leaning against a wall, Serenity pressed up against him. He wanted to embrace her, but was worried that she would tear his arms off if he did. "I mean, believe it or not, I don't have beautiful girls telling me they're my soul mate every day."

She pinched him.

"Ow."

"Real enough for you?"

"Yes."

"Look at you. You're goofy, and silly, and adventurous. And smart. An inventor, right? I'm pretty serious, and powerful, and more of the stay-at-home type. We balance each other out. Or at least, we will do, when we're together. You'll have to educate me, you know."

Gracious smiled so widely his face hurt. "We'll get together?"

"Well, yes. I can't abandon my counterweight." She grinned up at him. "I'll take you out when you're headache is gone."

He nodded, and bravely put his arms round her. She didn't protest, or kill him. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him right on the lips.

He got back to the Medical wing and sat down on Donegan's bed.

"I have a girlfriend," he announced happily, prodding his friend in the ribs.

Donegan scowled at him. "Whatever. You've been gone for all of half an hour. Don't try and lie to me."

"Ever heard of Serenity Williams?"

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at him. "Enlighten me."

"You do know her. Beautiful red head, shorter than me, Sensitive?"

"Oh yeah. Sure I know her. What about her?"

"You know what her powers are?" Gracious was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Empathy and stuff. Emotions. Yeah. Why?" Donegan sat back. "Get to the point, Gracious."

"I'm her counterweight," Gracious revealed, and was about to explain what that meant when it became clear that he didn't have to. Donegan's mouth was hanging open as he stared at him.

"Woah," he said. "Do you know how rare that is?"

"What?" Gracious frowned.

"Meeting your counterweight. Most people don't. That's – this is great!"

Gracious brightened. "You believe me?"

"Well, yeah. You can't lie, you idiot," Donegan laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I really can't," he admitted. "It feels like I'm going to be happy forever. Is this normal? Am I going insane?"

"That's love at first sight, I guess. Can you stop talking now? My head is killing me?"

"Fine." Gracious lay down. "I guess I'll go to sleep. I have a date later."

"Thank god," he said. "You know this means you can't moan about not having a girlfriend."

"Yeah, but I can boast about having one."

"Oh, great."


	4. Thrasher and Scapegrace

**To my delight and surprise, people actually wanted a Thrasher and Scapegrace chapter! I hope this suffices, I wanted to get it published ASAP. I tried to make it funny, so tell me if I succeeded/failed.**

**P.S – I'm planning out a China chapter and Valkyrie chapter. Coming soon…**

Scapegrace was enjoying having his old body back.

Of course it wasn't as beautiful as the woman he had once been, and admittedly bits did keep on falling off it, but it was like coming home after a long, hard day at work.

Except he had never really had a long hard day at work. Before the war, he had been the Killer Supreme, then the Zombie King, then a beautiful woman. He had never really had a proper job, if he thought about it.

So maybe that was why he was stood in front of Grand Mage Sorrows, trying to outline his best characteristics and qualifications so he could get one.

"So, uh, yeah…" he trailed off lamely after telling her how good he would be at reconnaissance because of how inconspicuous he was. That was the best point he could think of. He didn't have anything else.

China Sorrows looked over him from her desk. Scapegrace tried to avoid looking at her, even though he had a sneaking suspicion that her spell of beauty didn't work on him. After all, his heart belonged to another, now.

After the showdown in the Necropolis and Thrasher's – no, _Gerald's _– momentary death, he had felt awful about how he had treated the poor man, and so they had sat down and had a long talk about themselves. Scapegrace, like a blind fool, had forced himself into thinking that he didn't love his first-ever zombie, but with Thra-_Gerald's _help he allowed himself to open up and let him into his heart.

Admittedly, they hadn't gone on a date yet, but it was a working progress. And their bodies were getting fixed, so now bits weren't falling off of him regularly. Life was good.

He swallowed nervously and met the Grand Mage's icy blue eyes. He was sure he saw a smile dance across her face before she gave a delicate sigh and spoke.

"Scapegrace, you do not possess the qualities that a spy would need to be successful in the field." His head dropped. "But," she continues. "I have to say that you are correct in that you are a very inconspicuous man. So I propose a test."

He had perked up again now. A test sounded promising. But he had never been good at tests.

"You and your partner, the other zombie -" (his heart leapt at the mention) "- will go and gather information tonight, under the guise of a date, on the plans of a certain woman." Her mouth twisted slightly on the word. "She will be at the Ritz in Dublin tonight, meeting an informant. Your table will be right next to hers, and as you walk past it, you will drop a microphone into her coat pocket. If you succeed, we will see about your future career. If you do not, the loss of your life is not that much of an issue to me."

An idiotic smile spread across his face before he could help it.

"Of course, ma'am," he saluted her.

She rolled her eyes and waved a hand in dismissal. "Now get out. And don't tell your imbecile of a boyfriend."

Delighted, he hurried from the Grand Mage's office, eager to get home to share the good news with Gerald – and also Clarabelle.

Clarabelle, bless her, had always loved the idea of him and Gerald being together (she called it 'shipping' them). Once they had shared the good news with her, she had proceeded to cry and laugh and hug them all at the same time, which had been an admittedly overwhelming experience. Ever since, she had been hounding Scapegrace about their first date.

Nearly running through Roarhaven, he reached their house and flung open the door.

"Vaurien!" someone squealed, and hurled themselves into his arms.

It was Clarabelle. Of course it was Clarabelle. Th-Gerald was very cautious about their _physical _relationship. As he patted her awkwardly on the back, he looked over her shoulder to see Gerald hovering in the doorway, smiling slightly. His heart stuttered.

"Hi, Clarabelle," he said, removing her arms from around his neck. Gerald had ducked back through to the kitchen.

"How did it go with China, Scapey?" she asked him brightly.

He grinned at her. "Wait until you hear…" he said, trying to inject an aura of mystery to his announcement.

Clarabelle just laughed. "She gave you a test, didn't she?"

His smile fell slightly. "How – how did you know?"

"It's just the kind of thing that she'd do. Let's go and tell Gerald!"

She grabbed his hand and tugged him through to the kitchen, where Gerald was making him a cup of tea. He turned slightly pink when he saw them, and knocked over the sugar pot.

"V-Vaurien!" he stammered, turning even pinker. Scapegrace just smiled at him, trying to tell him that it was okay, because he was so cute.

"I have something to tell you," he said. Thra-crap, _Gerald_ looked at him, as trusting as a puppy. He felt a jerk in his stomach. Still he puffed himself up self-importantly and announced: "We have a date."

Clarabelle squealed and clapped while Gerald turned a deep shade of red and exclaimed, "Oh, Vaurien! Where to? Not that I'm bothered, I'm happy just to be with you-"

"The Ritz," Scapegrace interrupted. Gerald gasped and Clarabelle screamed even louder, but it gave him a deep sense of satisfaction to see that he was making his friend, and, well, almost-boyfriend, happy.

"Better start getting ready," he winked at Th-Gerald. "This is going to be fancy."

In retrospect, Scapegrace could see that everything was going badly from the moment they had walked in through the posh double doors.

For a start, Gerald had knocked over a vase and spilled expensive-looking roses everywhere, earning them more than a few dirty looks from the doorman, barely five seconds after entering.

Then Scapegrace himself had misplaced the tiny microphone that the Grand Mage had given him, and had spent several frantic minutes in the bathroom trying to find it. Finally finding it and emerging victorious, he found a smug waiter and an embarrassed Gerald waiting for him.

"What did you say?" he whispered to Thra-_Gerald_ as they weaved through the other tables. "What was your excuse for me taking so long?"

"I…" he hung his head in shame. "I might had said that you had a bad case of diarrhoea…"

Scapegrace didn't know whether to break into hysterical, panicky laughter or burst into shameful tears. He ended up making a choking noise, eliciting concerned looks from several diners and Gerald grabbing his arm in concern.

"I'm fine," he muttered, trying to quell his anger so that he didn't cause a scene. He had to prove to Grand Mage Sorrows that he was the perfect undercover agent.

Once they were seated, Scapegrace began calculating the perfect way to drop the mic into the pocket of the woman. It wasn't hard to figure out which woman; she was almost as beautiful as China, but her features were harder and crueller. She looked like the kind of woman who would incur the wrath of China Sorrows.

They ordered and made small talk until Scapegrace made the excuse to go to the bathroom. He walked right past the woman, and then artfully (or so he thought) bumped into her chair. In doing so, he managed to drop the microphone into the inner pocket of the stylish coat on the back of her chair.

"Oh, sorry," he smiled slightly as she turned and gave him a frosty look, before turning back to her dinner date.

When he was in the bathroom, he thought about how odd it was that she still had her coat with her in a restaurant like this. He shrugged it off, though, extremely pleased with himself.

He returned to Gerald, noting happily that the food had arrived. It seemed that this night would be perfect. He kept glancing at the woman, checking that she hadn't noticed his interference. She didn't seem to.

Halfway through the meal, Gerald cleared his throat and spoke in a quavering voice.

"Vaurien," he stammered, looking close to tears. "You keep on looking at her."

Scapegrace almost choked on his veal. "What?"

His lip trembled. "The beautiful woman behind us. You're interested in her, aren't you?"

Scapegrace swallowed hastily. "No, Gerald, you don't understand-"

"No, I understand perfectly, Vaurien," Gerald stood up, knocking his chair over. People were turning to look. "You're not interested. Fine."

"Gerald," he hissed, looking round at the other diners. "Listen to me-"

"Goodbye, Vaurien," Gerald said dramatically, and ran out.

Now everyone was staring. Scapegrace sank down in his seat and put his head on the table.

"Congratulations," Grand Mage Sorrows said when he entered her office. "You actually succeeded. Eliza Scorn did not suspect a thing. And nor did she decapitate you in a restaurant full of people."

Scapegrace didn't answer. Being decapitated was preferable to this.

"We will send you out on another occasion." She waved her hand regally. "You may leave now."

He slunk home, with his metaphorical tail between his legs. Gerald was going to be so upset, and all because he was being a career-driven idiot. He sighed as he slipped in the front door, expecting to be confronted by a crying Gerald or angry Clarabelle.

He got neither.

Instead, they were both laughing?

"Oh, Vaurien, please forgive me!" Gerald said. "It's just that I've always wanted to cause a big scene in a fancy restaurant, it made me feel like a diva-"

He was shocked into silence by Scapegrace coming forward and enveloping him in a hug.

"I thought you were angry at me!"

"Never at you," Gerald murmured. "Never."

Scapegrace closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. So he hadn't lost a lover after all. And now he was a spy. All was well.

The perfection of the moment was punctuated by Clarabelle giggling to herself on the couch, muttering "I ship it" under her breath. But even that was pleasant, in a way.


	5. China

**Sorry for the delay! School hasn't been treating me well, but I've finally managed to get it all done!**

**Shout out to K-Bomb, requested by your friend Skyla (gee, I hope you still read this after the uber long break, sorry about this) stay classy :)**

**I promise I will try and get Valkyrie's chapter up sooner, but for now, here's China.**

Having power had always pleased China. And now that she had an abundance of power, being the Grand Mage of Ireland, she was (almost) free to do what she wanted with it.

Of course, there was the annoyance of behaving herself, but she could find loopholes. She was China Sorrows; she could do practically anything.

However, her little pleasures would have to wait. There was still the issue of Eliza Scorn to deal with first.

China wondered idly if she would have to kill Scorn. Not that it would bother her, but there was the issue of the death not being traced back to her. She couldn't possibly do it herself, not with these shoes on…

Someone knocked on the door to her office. Frowning slightly, she waved her hand, activating a symbol that would show her who was waiting outside.

Her lips curved up into a grim, but somewhat satisfied smile when she saw dear Eliza stood waiting with Tipstaff. She rested her chin on her hand and called "Enter!", watching as Scorn swept into the room. She was impeccably dressed in a green dress with matching shoes, China had to say. As much as she hated the woman, she had an abundance of style.

This was an unscheduled meeting, she could tell by the way Tipstaff was glaring at Scorn. China gave him a gracious smile and a small wave to dismiss him. With her other hand, she tapped a tiny symbol carved into her thumb. It would send a notice to the pager that Miss Low wore, summoning her to China's side. Just in case.

The moment the door swung shut, Eliza smiled her trademark, heart-breaking smile at China. "Well, China darling, we're alone at last! I have been looking forward to this."

"As have I, dear Eliza," China replied, surveying Scorn from where she was sat. That woman wasn't worth standing up for.

"As you probably know, darling, I have been wondering about a few things… and I think you know what they are." Scorns eyes narrowed, but her voice was still sugared.

"Oh, your benefactors?" China shrugged her shoulders delicately. "That was a simple task to accomplish. A spy here, a hitman there, some blackmail in between – it was all very fun. Now your precious church is on the verge of collapse, is it not?"

Scorns lips pressed into a thin line, and when she spoke, all pretence at sweetness was gone. "Right in one, darling. Therefore, you know why I'm here."

China laughed. "To ask for more sponsors? Dear Eliza, we don't condone the worship of insane gods in the Sanctuary. Or to kill me?"

"The latter," Scorn said, and she launched herself at China.

They fell back, Scorn on top of China, raking her face with her nails. She tapped a symbol on her arm and tried to hit Scorn across the face, but she pinned her arm and slapped her, hard. China moved quickly, twisting her free hand into Scorns hair and head-butting her in the nose. She cried out and loosened her hold, allowing China to kick her off and stand up. She tapped a twin pair of symbols carved into her forearms and sent a wave of blue light towards Scorn, who dodged it at the last minute, blood flowing down her face. She wasn't so beautiful any more.

Where the hell was Low? China thought as she moved aside from a kick and brought Scorn down with a dagger of red light. She was China's bodyguard, and had been doing a fine job of it too, apart from now. Scorn lunged at her, a knife in her hand, and China twisted, pinning her to the wall. She struggled for a few moments, but seemed to realise that China was too powerful, and gave in.

"Oh China," Scorn said, breathing heavily. "We could have been the best. We could have ruled the world. Together."

"That is true, Eliza dear," China told her, subtly positioning the knife over Scorn's heart. "But you are insane, and alas, I am not. It would not have worked."

Scorn chuckled and moved China's hand down to her stomach. "Not yet, dear. Let us reminisce, before one of us dies. Do you remember the first time we met?"

China actually cracked a smile. "I was the most beautiful woman in the room, wasn't I?"

"I was going to say exactly that," Scorn laughed. "That I was the most beautiful. We started conspiring immediately, I recall."

"That we did," China murmured. "We had the same ideas, before I came to my senses."

"And the same tastes," Scorn purred. "For old times' sake, darling?"

"If I say no?" China held her seductive, bright green gaze.

"You won't," she breathed, and leant forward.

They were kissing, just like the used to do all those centuries ago. The electricity, the raw passion, was still there, not dulled by the years. They kissed long and hard, like the old days.

And then China slipped the knife into Eliza Scorn's heart.

She leant back as Scorn coughed, blood running from her lips.

"Eliza, dear, I might have loved you once, but you are insane. Go to hell."

China locked eyes with Scorn once more. Scorn managed a final, bloody smile, and spoke one last time, with an obviously huge effort:

"I have loved you, I do love you, and I will love you."

Eliza Scorn died.

She lay the body out on the floor, surprisingly gently, for her enemy. She walked back round to her desk, and checked herself in the mirror. No blood, no tears in her dress, nothing. She was still perfect.

Finally, Tanith Low walked through the door. She glanced at China, then at the body, then back at China.

"She was a bitch anyway," Tanith said, pressing a button on her mobile phone to summon what China presumed to be a clean up team.

"She told me she loved me," China told no one in particular. Tanith froze up for a second, and then turned to her.

"And I loved her," China continued, still not speaking to anyone. "Once. A long, long time ago. Until I realised that love was a waste of time and Eliza was insane."

Tanith was giving her a look.

"What?" China snapped.

"So you are human," Tanith smirked. "You do actually have feelings."

China rolled her eyes. "Get out of my sight."

Still smirking, Tanith strolled out of the room, and she sighed.

All love, she decided, was idiotic. She was China Sorrows. All of her love was used up on herself.

That thought made her smile as the body was removed from her sight.


End file.
